


First glimpse

by Enochianess



Series: Gallavich Week 2015 [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Episode Related, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, GW2015, Gallavich Week, Kissing, Love, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 03, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 19:23:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4191939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enochianess/pseuds/Enochianess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gallavich Week - Day 1: First time (first time they do anything, canon wise or not)</p><p>They stared at each other, panting, eyes wide open, as Ian bottomed out. This position was different, so entirely different to everything they were used to. It was perfect. Mickey was perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First glimpse

_"Was I just invited to a sleepover?"_

_"Fuck you is what you were invited to."_

 

Ian was nervous when he knocked on the old and worn Milkovich front door. It didn't make much sense. Him and Mickey had been going at this thing for years now. But still, something about tonight felt different. It felt weighted, heavy, important. It was no small thing for Mickey Milkovich to invite him over, to choose to spend the most of his night in an empty house with Ian. It was no small thing that they were acknowledging this  _friendship,_ or whatever the fuck it was, and opting to spend their free time together, fucking or otherwise. No, it was no small thing, because tonight they were crossing all sorts of lines and barriers and whatever else it was they had built to keep this thing going on such strict terms. Tonight, they were erasing those perimeters. And it was Mickey who had initiated it.

Mickey swung the door open, a smirk already fixed on his face. Ian stared dumbly.

"Yo, Gallagher." He said loudly, a hand wafting in front of Ian's face to try and capture his attention. "What the fuck are you doing? You coming inside or you just going to stand there like a fucking ass-clown all night?"

Ian shook himself and brushed past Mickey, his face burning a little in embarrassment. 

It was strange being in the Milkovich house when there was no one else in it, no threat. It was almost eery in its peaceful quiet, the noises of the southside streets not seeming to reach inside the thin walls. There were still guns and knives strewn about, on the coffee table and the kitchen cabinets, but they no longer made Ian feel nervous. They were just something familiar. Accessories to the boy that was shifting from foot to foot as Ian surveyed the small and messy space that seemed so different when the Milkovich clan weren't there to fill it.

"Where'd you say your dad was?" Ian asked quietly, as if he expected Terry Milkovich to burst in at any moment.

"Took my brothers on a run out of town." Mickey replied. "He's gone for a couple days."

Ian looked up at him shyly, a smile tugging at his lips. "A couple days, huh?"

"Hey, I never said you can fucking move in ass-wise, so don't get any ideas." Mickey grumbled.

Ian laughed. "Well, thanks anyway. For letting me crash, I mean. That place is driving me up the fucking walls."

"You'd do the same for me, right?" He called over his shoulder as he went into the kitchen.

"Course." Ian beamed. 

 

_"You are out of your mind." Mickey exclaimed as he walked back into the living room, hot tray in hand. "Have you seen that fucking ponytail? It's a powerful ponytail, man. That's bullshit. Segal could totally kick Van Damme's ass."_

_"Oh, unless- unless-"  Ian replied, speaking out the side of his mouth because of the cigarette held between his lips. "It's Double Impact Van Damme, 'cause that's some Van Double_ Damme!" 

_Mickey laughed, soft and sincere. "Mmm, I wanna fuck Van Damme."_

_Ian turned to look at Mickey and smiled happily at him as Mickey passed the cigarette back over._

 

By the time the movie had finished, the end credits rolling up the screen, Ian and Mickey were pressed closely together, thighs touching, arms brushing, shoulders knocking. They sat in silence staring at the screen, both waiting for the other to make a move. 

Were they going to fuck now? That's what Mickey had meant when he'd invited him over, right?

"So..." Ian said softly.

"Yeah." 

"Yeah?"

"You fucking deaf, Gallagher?"

Ian snorted but fell silent the moment he turned to look at Mickey. Blue eyes were already fixed intensely on him, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, eyebrows furrowed slightly. He looked vulnerable, afraid. There was something desperate in his gaze, as if he was trying to tell Ian just how much he wanted, just how much he needed, but would never be able to vocalise. So, instead, Ian nodded and leant forwards. He noticed with satisfaction the way Mickey's shoulders seemed to loosen, the way he sank back into the sofa with a sigh when Ian pressed their lips together, as if in relief. 

Their kisses started off soft and chaste, completely different to anything they were used to, but they quickly became bruising, fast and needy. Their mouths opened, Ian's head angling to slot their lips together better, and their tongues tangled, softly stroking and probing at one another. Mickey moaned, the sound lost between them, and arched up to press their bodies impossibly closer. Ian ground down instinctively, his breath hitching when Mickey pulled roughly at thick clumps of his hair. 

"I'm gonna fuck you." Ian murmured as he began trailing his lips down the column of Mickey's throat, kissing, licking, biting, sucking, until his skin was spattered with bruises. 

Mickey whined, turning his head to provide Ian with more access. He wrapped his legs around Ian's body, his heels digging in at the top of Ian's thighs to give himself better leverage to thrust up.

"Mick-" Ian began, his voice breaking off when Mickey grabbed at his ass. "Bedroom. Come on."

"Why? There's no one else in the fucking house." He grumbled, but he let Ian clamber off him and pull him towards the bedroom. 

The second they'd closed the door, Ian had Mickey pressed against the wall, his hands grabbing at the hem of his tank and yanking it over his head. He was expecting some snarky remark about how desperate he was, about how much he wanted this, but Mickey said nothing. Mickey was breathing heavily and rushing to take Ian's own clothes off. It seemed, for once, that Mickey wasn't going to try and downplay this, act like he didn't need it just as much as Ian. 

They stripped quickly, watching each other shamelessly as more flesh was revealed, eyes hungry. The moment they were naked, Ian tugged at Mickey's wrist and walked backwards until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. He sat down, gaze locked with Mickey's, and pulled him forwards. He nipped at one of Mickey's hips, his tongue running across his pubic bone until he could bite down on the other one. 

"Ian-" Mickey mumbled.

Ian grasped at the base of Mickey's dick, squeezing slightly and running his thumb up along the vein. He licked tentatively at the head, his eyes flicking up to watch as Mickey's fluttered closed, his mouth falling open slightly, his brows furrowing. Ian sank down, taking Mickey as far down his throat as he could. Mickey was hot and hard and heavy on his tongue already, the salty taste of his pre-come making Ian groan. 

"No, Ian-  _please_ _-"_ Mickey whined when Ian pulled off with a small 'pop'.

Ian shuffled backwards until he was sat on the centre of the bed and patted at his lap. 

Mickey frowned, confused. His eyes were hazy with lust.

Ian huffed and reached over, pulling at Mickey until he crawled on the bed in front of him. Ian wrapped his hands round the backs of Mickey's thighs and pulled him forwards until he finally got the hint and straddled Ian's lap, his eyes wary and afraid. 

"What are you doin'?" Mickey asked huskily.

"Grab the lube." Ian demanded. "Gotta prep you."

Mickey stared at him questioningly, but he did as he was told, quickly shuffling over to the bedside table and clambering straight back over Ian's thighs, lube in hand.

Ian squeezed the bottle and coated his fingers, rubbing them together to warm the liquid. He reached around Mickey's body and ran his hand down until his fingers were brushing over his hole. Mickey wiggled impatiently, his teeth pressing down sharply on his bottom lip. 

"Gallagher, will you-" He began before Ian pushed one finger past the tight ring of muscle, effectively silencing him. 

Ian thrusted his finger inside a couple of times before Mickey huffed impatiently and he pushed in a second. He scissored the two digits, carefully stretching and opening him up. Mickey was panting, his eyes crazy and afraid at the rawness of the moment, the intimacy. Sensing his panic, Ian leant forwards and kissed him softly, trailing his tongue over the seam of his lips and delving inside his mouth. 

"Please Ian-" Mickey murmured. "Just- just-  _fuck me already."_

Ian pulled his fingers out and poured more lube onto the palm of his hand. He began covering his dick in the stuff, his breath hitching as he pulled at himself. He placed a hand soothingly at the base of Mickey's spine, rubbing gently in reassurance that he would take care of him, he'd fuck him soon. 

Ian wrapped one arm tightly around Mickey's waist and held his dick with the other. He pulled Mickey down and lined himself up, his eyes locking with Mickey's as he waited for the go sign. 

Mickey sank down with relief, his thighs shaking as he slowly took Ian in, inch by excruciatingly perfect inch.

They stared at each other, panting, eyes wide open, as Ian bottomed out. This position was different, so entirely different to everything they were used to. It was perfect. Mickey was perfect. 

Mickey's arms wrapped around him as he began to lift back up until it was just the tip of Ian's dick left inside him, one hand knotting in Ian's hair and the other gripping the back of his neck. A shout sounded from deep inside his throat as he dropped back down again, his cock brushing against Ian's stomach on the way down. Ian's hands reached around to grab at his ass, apologising with a wince when Mickey cried in pain. Right, bullet wound. Damn. 

"Drunk old lady, my ass." Mickey muttered. 

Ian squeezed Mickey's good cheek and slid the other to grasp at his shoulder. Ian snapped his hips up, a smile spreading across his face when a cry fell from Mickey's lips, letting him know he'd hit the right spot. Mickey's legs were getting more and more shaky, his arms tightening around Ian's shoulders to help keep him upright. 

"Get on your back." Ian grunted. "Lay down. C'mon. Quick."

Mickey whimpered,  _fucking whimpered,_ when Ian lifted him off him. He shuffled back quickly, his legs spreading and his knees bending eagerly. 

"Fuck." Ian groaned as he watched Mickey's wanton movements.

He ran his hands up the backs of Mickey's thighs, folding him in half and pushing back inside him in one long, deep thrust. He slid his fingers between Mickey's and pinned their hands above his head, their foreheads resting together. Mickey's pupils were blown wide, almost absorbing all the beautiful sky blue. Ian didn't understand why they had waited this long to fuck face-to-face. Nothing else compared to watching the reactions playing across Mickey's face. He was so fucking responsive. 

"You look so fucking good, Mick." He moaned, taking Mickey's dick in hand and beginning to tug him in rhythm to their hurried thrusts. They weren't going to last. Not like this. The angle was too damn perfect.

Mickey's body tensed and he locked down around Ian as his orgasm rippled through him. His nails cut deep into Ian's shoulder blades and Ian yelped as he was dragged along with him, coming deep inside Mickey. 

Once the final aftershocks subsided, Ian collapsed down on top of Mickey, his lips pressing hot, open kisses to his neck. He expected Mickey to push him off, to grumble about something, to get out of bed and disappear for a smoke. Instead, Mickey sighed and ran his hands up and down Ian's spine, his legs falling down to hug Ian's hips. Ian knew he needed to pull out and clean up, but he was more content laying on Mickey's chest than he'd been in a hell of a long time.

"We're doing it like that again." Mickey said quietly. 

"You liked it, huh?" Ian replied, a little teasing.

Mickey hummed. "It was okay, I guess."

Ian chuckled softly, his breathing beginning to even out. "Thanks, Mick."

"Please tell me you're not thanking me for sex. That's just fucking weird man."

"No, for letting me crash here tonight." Ian said seriously. "I really hate it at that home."

"It'll be okay." Mickey murmured, one hand reaching up to stroke the back of Ian's head. "Fiona'll have you out in no time."

It was the first time Mickey had ever said anything like that, so openly kind and comforting. It seemed tonight was a night of firsts. Ian hoped this was a step forward and not just a one time thing. 

"Wanna go again?" Ian asked after a moment.

"Don't ask stupid fucking questions." Mickey replied.

Ian could hear the smirk in his voice. He didn't need to look up to know it was there. But, he looked up anyway, and Mickey's smirk was like the fucking sun.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to contact me: http://enochianess.tumblr.com


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